Forgetting How to Remember
by RedBrushStroke
Summary: Sometimes, going through certain pains and conflicts are the closest thing you can do to get some relief... Eve if it does alter certain parts of your life forever. Lovino's still deciding whether or not he's ready for such a task. Based off of my true story.


"You're absolutely sure you want to do this?" he asked again for the tenth time.

Lovino sighed, running his hand through his hair once again, the strands knotting up into his fingers. He didn't look to the driver, he just continued to stare out the window. The question really didn't quite register anymore. It was more so words that spewed out of his boyfriend's mouth that had no particular meaning...even if their meanings meant everything at the moment.

The young Italian stared hard at the landscape outside, contemplating whether or not he really was. He could do this any time...but he first needed to get the nerve to show up.

That's harder than it looks.

"I've...I mean... Feliciano's already-"

"It doesn't matter if Feli has already gone to see him. That has no significance to_ you. _You get to choose when you want to see him...not Feli. Besides, Feli has visited many times already because he was comfortable. It's okay if you're still hesitant..." Antonio replied.

Lovino was genuinely surprised with the insight of the comment, even though he wouldn't admit it did help shed some light onto his own confusion. Lovino sat back, biting his lip.

His eyes scanned the numerous beige buildings. An abundance of flowers with different colors and sizes overwhelmed the place's gardens. They were an assortment of flower arrangements and decorations. All of them real. Garden ornaments like gnomes and tin dragonflies on sticks littered the grounds. The grass was lush with large volumes of shrubbery roosting next to fences and gates. It was well kept, this place, and though had such a welcoming atmosphere, it was poisonous.

It was so clean...so perfect...so professional. It hurt. It stung and ripped at his heart strings. His eyes widened as he continued to observe the place...the place with the pinwheels lined on the fence, the place with a content silence and sunny patio. It was nice, it really was. But that's not what bothered Lovino.  
Even though that's _exactly_ what bothered him. He continued to stare.  
Grandpa was just inside those walls...hidden behind clean cut shrubbery and nice ladies at the front office.

He was within the walls of that damn place, that wasn't his home...even though he'd be living there for the rest of his life. He wasn't nestled in his large armchair in his living room with the ugly, brown carpet. He wasn't admiring his countless pieces of knick-knacks and collectibles. He wasn't boasting about them or dusting them like he used to. Not that he ever would again.

He wouldn't pride in his pieces of art in the basement, paintings, sculptures and stained glass. No. That wasn't ever happening again. His bright, almost arrogant smile would never grace his lips as he stood in the kitchen, tossing a can of sprite or pepsi Lovino's way. They would never share a bag of cheetoes together in his small, trailer kitchen.

And after he would take another bite of the snack, Lovino would never hear him say his notorious, "Good cracker!" and no more would there be-

Lovino's stomach churned and something throbbed in his heart. Something that ached and pained. He didn't want to see him. Not yet. It was still too raw.

"I-I can't do it. I can't do it today..." Lovino gasped out, as if he had been holding his breath. That painful prickling of tears stabbed at his eyes.

He ripped his gaze away from the beautiful landscape and the clean buildings. Sweat beaded his hair line and he looked at the car mat.

"I just can't fucking do it now. Take me home."

And that's all he had to say.

Antonio nodded, shifting the gears of the car and slowly drove away.

* * *

A week passed, and the opportunity to see Grandpa presented itself again. This time, Feli would take him instead of Antonio.

They arrived at the clean buildings. Those terrifying, clean, prestige buildings.

"...And they have a huge glass cage full of little finches! They're really quite adorable..." Feliciano rambled on, parking the car.

Lovino could only nod.

Feliciano smiled his worry-free smile as he turned his gaze to his brother. He knew his big brother was still hurting. He knew it stabbed Lovino in his heart each time this place or their grandfather was mentioned.

Feli had mentioned how their grandfather had remembered his favorite type chocolate, and right then Lovino screamed at him to shut up and not say another word. He had flushed a deep red before shoving an accusing finger in his little brother's face, demanding that he never speak of such things to him ever again.

_"Tell the fucking potato bastard all this shit for all I care-but do _not_ tell me! I-I don't want to fucking hear it, Feliciano Vargas!__"_

Feli sighed at the recent memory, before placing a hand on Lovi's shoulder.

"...You don't have to, fratello."

"I know that, dumbass."

"Then why do you keep torturing yourself by coming here...but never seeing him?"

That sparked an entire new conflict inside Lovino. Something he didn't need.

"_Because I"m trying to get the nerve to see him again! _Every time I think I can go in and 'visit' with him I get scared, the past comes back and tells me that it won't ever be the same, and I don't want to taint my memory of him! Okay! BUTT OUT OF MY BUSINESS WITH HIM!"

The younger of the two was unfortunately used to these outbursts, so flinching was no longer a reflex. He nodded in understanding, he hadn't a right to be mad at Lovino, before getting out of the car.

"Come on inside any time, Lovi... We'll be painting under the gazebo."

And the car door slammed shut. Lovino waited for a few minutes, before burying his face in his hands, trying to hold back a wave of sobs and sputtering. His shoulders shook, his breathing was quickened and he couldn't obtain the control to calm down.

All he wanted was his Grandfather...that's all he asked...and slowly, that need was being taken away from him. Memory by memory, bit by bit, thought by thought...  
And of course, the only remedy Lovino truly would accept, was forever lost. He wanted his Grandfather's embracing arms to hold him and tell him it's okay...just like he used to. But that would never happen again. Ever.

Much time was passed, trying to collect himself and dry the tears. After what seemed like hours, there was something that clicked inside Lovino.

He wasn't sure what it was...he wasn't sure how or why...but what it did would give him that damn nerve to go inside, and see him. The decision to see his grandfather suddenly became his first priority, and nothing would stop him...even the pain of the loss of his grandfather.

Lovino slowly but surely managed to take himself inside the building. He quickly graced passed the gazebo, hidden behind a thin fence. His grandfather's voice entered his ears. His heart rate sped up.

He entered a long hallway with what looked like dorm rooms on each side of the hall. He glanced in a few of them.

Elderly men and women, sitting or laying inside, on beds and chairs. One was on oxygen and in a wheel chair... He averted his gaze as fast as he could, focusing on the big room ahead. As Feliciano had explained, there was a nice large upward glass cage, filled with finches.

They tweeted happily and hopped around the plastic branches sticking out from a thick wooden pole. Nests were constructed at the top of the cage, where a few birds poked their heads out of the baskets.

An old woman sitting in a wheelchair also stared at the birds. She smiled gently.

"Aren't they pretty?" she asked, her voice wavering.

Lovino was caught off guard, but he smiled and nodded none the less.

"There was this yellow bird I saw that I hadn't seen before," she explained, pointing.

Lovino, after a moment's hesitation, moved to the lady's perspective to eye such a bird. And there, sat a colorful bird with a bright yellow breast, purple feathers buffing out of its collar.

"Ah...it's pretty..." Lovino murmured.

The lady smiled and allowed Lovino on his way. He looked around to see other hallways as the same had come from. Each labeled as a nature-related street.

He took the one he was directed to. He rounded the corner slowly, a large blue spruce blocking his view of the gazebo. But he could see Feli and his grandfather's feet underneath the thicket of needles.

Inaudible Italian words traveled to Lovino's ears. He carefully made his way past the doorway onto a cement sidewalk, he strained to see his grandfather, but still the tree blocked his view. He swallowed, the tears coming back to stab at his eyes.

He didn't count how many times he blinked, but as long as the tear stayed in his sockets, he was fine... He made his way around the gazebo, to see his grandfather staring at something. Feli was by his side, holding out the box of chocolates he had bought as a present.

Feli noticed Lovino walking towards them, and a wave of relief and pride flew through his veins.

"Look, Nonno! It's Lovino!" he pointed out happily, jumping to his feet to run to his brother.

Lovino smiled gently, something he rarely did, and even Feliciano was surprised by the gesture. Lovino was lead to a chair sitting right in front of his aged grandfather, and he took the seat.

"Ciao, nonno..." he greeted, raising his voice (his grandfather had developed terrible hearing problems).

The old man had a square face, golden eyes that were dimmed due to time, and a look of curiosity etched in his wrinkled skin. The man who used to be strong, muscular and healthy now sat with a simple oxygen tank. He was frail-looking, skinny and his breathes were deep. His tanned hand slowly raised to his chin and stroked the scruffy beard that barely made itself present on his face.

"And...and who's this?"

Of course he wouldn't remember his own grandson.

"That's Lovi! Remember? He's your other grandson," Feli informed, used to the confusion of their grandfather.

The old man nodded and turned his attention to Feliciano.

"And you are...?"

"I'm Feliciano...! Lovino's younger brother! I'm also your grandson."

"You're my dad?"

"No! Your _nipote._"

"Oh!"

Lovino smiled and let out a noise of acknowledgement before swallowing. Grandpa wasn't suppose to be here...he was suppose to be _at home_.

"Here. We got you chocolates..." Lovino said, giving him the chocolate box again.

"Now what do you want me to do with these...?" Grandpa asked, truly confused.

"Er...they're for you."

"For me?"

"Yes."

"Am I suppose to eat them?"

"Yes, they're chocolates!" Lovino explained, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

Feli gave Lovino a reassuring look, and took out one of the nuts covered in chocolate. He put it in his grandfather's hand and told him in Italian to eat it. Sometimes he'd respond better in Italian, Lovino had been told.

The old man observed it before placing it delicately into his mouth, and he began to chew.

Lovino glanced at his brother, and when their eyes met, Lovino knew. Feliciano was hurting too...he was hurting so much... It was usually Grandpa who always did the explaining or clarifying...not the other way around. Feliciano was still getting accustomed to this terrible change as well...

The small box was eaten between the trio, speaking briefly of this and that. Soon afterwards, Feliciano decided they should paint together, just like old times. He nodded and explained this to their grandfather, before leaving to get the supplies.

The few minutes Lovino and his grandfather were left in the warming sun were strange. Grandpa would've usually been blabbering on just like Feliciano about this and that. Exclaiming about World War two and saying how life was back in Italy. But now, they sat in silence.

Lovino had contemplated on starting up conversation, but he wasn't sure how or if he really wanted to. Conversing with this man on the phone was hard enough...Grandpa always being lost in the conversations. Lovino often tried to speak of his grandfather's art teaching career as a solid subject, but now...his grandfather denied everything about being an artist.

_"Oh I'm no artist. I can't do any of that fancy stuff."_

Lovino watched as his grandfather played with his own hands, maybe experimenting with his oxygen cord. A few minutes passed, and Feliciano came back with a sketchpad, small water color pallet, a mug of water and paper towels.

"Here we are~! C'mon, Nonno, let's go to the table and paint."

"Do what now?"

"Paint!"

Lovino helped organize the gazebo, pulling up chairs and cleaning the table. Paper was distributed among the three, and immediately they began to paint. Lovino decided a tomato would be a pretty epic thing to paint...not that it really mattered.

Feli began working on some sort of animal. Like a rabbit or something. Lovino didn't say anything, but his eyes were frequently checking on his grandfather's work. The aged man took a few minutes to organize his space, before dipping the brush into the green and started to paint random lines at the top. He didn't use much space.

"What are you painting?" Lovino piped up, hating the silence.

His grandfather didn't respond. Feli put down his brush and shook their grandfather's shoulder.

"Nonno Lovi wants to know what you're painting."

"Eh? Oh...uh...I dunno..." he muttered awkwardly, his focus all on the paint.

The brush sat perfectly in his hand, and the bristles wandered the white space with expertise. The color was vivid and bright. The strokes were clean and precise. Yes...Grandpa was still an artist, even if the subject itself was unknown.

The technique, the motor skill, the focus was all still there!

But the painter...it's hard to say.

They painted for a good forty five minutes, Lovino's energy degrading. Even Feliciano had stopped painting. Grandpa however was still focused on his little blotch of color at the top of his page.

With close inspection, Lovino noticed that his grandfather still knew that more water would dilute the colors, and how he worked and exercised that idea. He remembered that his grandfather detested watercolor paints, but here he was, a master at the medium.

"It's a fish..." Feliciano murmured.

"Eh?" Lovino questioned.

"It looks like a fish!" the younger exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"Yeah...maybe it is a fish. I dunno what it is," Grandpa admitted himself, scrubbing some paint off the paper with the bristles.

"It's a darn good fish," Lovino told his grandfather.

Soon, the "fish"...was finished. Though you couldn't really tell what it was unless you said "it's a fish", it still looked so fucking professional! Lovino glanced at his tomato and Feliciano's rabbit. Though there was some artistic flare to them, it still wasn't as eye appealing as the splotch on their grandfather's paper.

"Now sign your name!" Feliciano said excitedly, handing him a pen.

A little voice in Lovino's mind questioned his grandfather's ability to write anymore... Thankfully, that worry was put at ease when the old man scribbled down his name. Lovino was very happy to see it was legible and correctly spelled.

Though the handwriting was terrible compared to his old handwriting. But he didn't care.

Feliciano and Lovi also signed their pieces, before standing up to leave. Lovino couldn't handle staying for lunch.

"Well...we're gonna leave soon...we'll walk you inside, okay?" Feliciano explained, cleaning up the supplies.

Lovino helped with supporting his Grandfather, pulling him up carefully out of his seat.

"Is your knee locked?" Lovino asked, seeing as his grandfather had troubles bending it.

"No...I'm fine-"

Suddenly the mass of the old man shifted, and he began to stumble towards a bench. He leaned backwards and Lovino grabbed him by his sleeve, hauling the weight forward.

"Are you okay!" he gasped, holding onto the man tightly.

"I-I almost had a tumble."

"Yes you did..."

The Vargas brothers exchanged concerned glances.

As they made their way back into the building, once more did the man almost fall. They decided he should push his oxygen tank, it would help with balance.

They made their way inside the building, entering a small kitchen. Other elderly people were waiting at the table, small plastic cups of juice and water by their side.

"What are you going to have for lunch?" Feliciano asked.

A woman helped their Grandfather into another chair.

"We have meatloaf and chicken today," the woman explained happily.

"Which do you want?" Lovino questioned.

"Uh...I-I dunno..." Grandpa stuttered.

"Meatloaf, or chicken," Feliciano repeated.

"I-...I guess the meatloaf would be alright," was the careless decision.

The woman nodded.

Lovino bit his lip, and hugged the man tight. It was an impulsive action he himself didn't even see coming. He clung to his old caretaker and held back a sob.

"I-I love you...and...I'll miss you..." he admitted.

Confused, the man hugged back and patted his grandson's back.

"Ti amo, anche."

Lovino recoiled after a moment, and allowed Feliciano to embrace their grandfather.

"We'll see you later, okay?" Feliciano beamed, rubbing his shoulder.

"Oh alright," was the simple reply.

Lovino and Feliciano hugged him one more time, before walking down the long hallway back to the car.

The sun beat down on them with a gentle caress, the breeze cool and the birds chirped. Lovino shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his head low. When they got into the car, Feli didn't start the engine immediately.

"...I'm proud of you."

"What?"

"I'm proud of you, Lovi...for going to see him today. Even though it doesn't look like it, I'm sure it meant a lot to him."

"If he fucking remembers me..."

"He will...some time or another...I promise. When we talk, he sometimes says something about, 'the crazy older one'."

The two both chuckle a bit.

"He seems happy though," Lovino observed truthfully, looking at the painting his grandfather had just completed.

"Yes...and even though it hurts us...that's all that matters...is that Grandpa is happy. Even if he doesn't know it."

* * *

**This story is based off of my true story that happened today. Everything from the building, the finches, the lady in the wheelchair, the painting and even some of the dialogue is all true. **

**I cried so many times writing this, because I didn't want to cry at the nursing home... My grandfather has dementia after having many many health problems. Dementia is like a step below Alzheimer's. It hurts me so much to know _my_ grandfather will never be the same... that my relationship will never be the same with him ever again. **

**And that he doesn't even remember me sometimes... He painted this beautiful little picture that I will forever treasure and it just...god... I can't express my feelings because there's too much to express. I just had to write about this...**

**I don't care if it's good writing or not. I just need to express my feelings again... Ugh...I just want him back...I want him to die at home and not at some fucking nursing home. I'm confused and hurt and so many other emotions I can't even pack it into this story. It's hard...but... i'll figure it out. **

**Thank you for reading.**


End file.
